


Time to Talk About Our Feelings

by fictitiousLiterate



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Oliver Banks (mentioned) - Freeform, Short & Sweet, extremely self indulgent fluff, post mag 168
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictitiousLiterate/pseuds/fictitiousLiterate
Summary: Martin talks out his jealousy with Jon
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67





	Time to Talk About Our Feelings

Martin sits in the Corpse Roots a little embarrassed because he was jealous of a random man who had technically never ever met Jon. Yes, he had sat at Jon’s side for _months_ with no reaction. Yes, this purportedly handsome man had just come in and woken him up. He knew, intellectually that he had no reason to be jealous, because Jon was his boyfriend and he was Jon’s reason to cling to humanity.  
Of course he also knew the real reason why he was jealous over Jon. He had never felt loved or wanted by anyone. His father didn’t want him. At least not enough to take him along when he left. His mother didn’t want him. In fact she hated him for looking so much like his father. Jon had taken a while to warm up him, and even when he had it had taken them both so long to enter into a relationship. That just made Martin covet it all the more. Jon wanted him and loved him and he was so terrified to lose that so of course, he was jealous.  
He realized he should probably tell Jon all of this. Who had apparently just finished vomiting his terrors because he was walking towards him.  
“How was this one?”  
“It was very strange,” Jon sounded deadpan but his eyes glittered with mischief, “I just spent twenty minutes talking about how hot you are.”  
“What?”  
“Yes, apparently the statement of the domain comes from the avatar ruling it. Oliver just wanted me to tell you that he’s single and if I’m ever dumb enough to lose you to call him. Maybe I’m the one who should be jealous.”  
“I guess you’ll have to smite him now. Since he’s trying to make off with your boyfriend and all,” Martin kept a straight face until Jon cracked up.  
“You’re right, I shouldn’t slander Oliver like that. Although I think you would have been his type; if he still cared enough. He did say some interesting things but... I think we have more pressing matters.” Jon reaches out and takes Martin’s hand. “You wanted to know how he woke me up. It’s because the Web made him come to give me his statement, and he was sent to offer me the choice between death and full-blown avatarhood. Or outline it I suppose. I wish it could have been you giving me true love’s kiss and whisking me away on a white horse, but that’s not what happened.”  
“I wouldn’t have kissed you while you were in a coma, anyway. I _am_ glad you chose to come back to me, even if I wasn’t in the best place for it at the time.” Martin pulls Jon into a hug and leans his chin on Jon’s head. “I’m sorry for getting jealous. It’s just...this is going to sound terrible, but you are the first person to love me for me. I’ve never felt like enough for someone but being with you makes me feel like enough. I’m just a bit overprotective about it, I’m sorry. I'll try not to be. Next time we see someone.”  
“Martin, that’s…” Jon pulls away to look Martin in the eyes. “Any time you need me to reassure you that I love you, I will. I know I’m not the best with showing my emotion, but I want you to know unquestioningly that I love you and I want you around. All you have to do is ask and I’ll remind you.”  
“If I ask you to remind me by regaling with how you wish I had come and rescued you with true love’s kiss, will you?”  
“Ok, maybe not true love’s kiss. Maybe true love’s reading of Keats.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @leighistired on Tumblr. Come say hi!


End file.
